


A Walking Denial

by mistermistyeyed



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Good Person Steve Harrington, Nightmares, Parental Steve Harrington, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Steve deserves a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistermistyeyed/pseuds/mistermistyeyed
Summary: Everyone thought that life could finally go back to normal; or at least as close to normal you could get after fighting interdimensional monsters. But, when Steve starts acting weird, they remember that the supernatural isn't their only problem.Or; The one where Steve finally gets the family he deserves.





	1. Chapter 1

Jonathan thought that after fighting an army of interdimensional monsters and having his brother be possessed by a terrifying malevolent entity, nothing would be able to surprise him anymore. 

Turns out he was wrong, thanks to Steve Harrington. 

The first time he saw Steve's car pull up to his house, about a week and a half after the Gate had been closed, Jonathan was convinced the world must be ending again, after only giving them a measly week to recover this time. The only two times Steve had been to his house was when there were monsters to be fought, so he immediately started rooting around his room for his lighter and a half full can of gasoline he knew he had put  _somewhere_. 

He heard voices in the kitchen a few minutes later, and he skidded out of his room, jacket half pulled on and lighter held tightly in his hand. 

However, he froze as soon as he entered the kitchen. Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Will were all sat at the kitchen table, debating which movie to watch, and Steve was rooting around the kitchen. He grabbed something frozen from the fridge and turned the oven on. 

"Just because I'm making you little shits food this one time doesn't mean I'm your goddamn maid," he called loudly over his shoulder, voice cutting through the yammering of the kids. "I just don't trust you not to burn the house down."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "How can we trust  _you_ not to burn the house down?"

"I can reach the dials without a step stool, unlike you guys, which already gives me credibility," he said, ignoring the indignant protests of the kids. He spun around, hands on his hips. "And-" he began, but froze when he saw Jonathan. The kids followed his gaze to the doorway.

"Jonathan?" Will questioned. "What are you doing?"

Jonathan quickly straightened up, shoving his lighter in his pocket and pulling his jacket on properly. "I, uh, just wanted to see what was going on in here." He made eye contact with Steve and quickly looked away. His face was bruised to all hell from last week, but it was still easy to tell by his expression that he was just as uncomfortable as Jonathan was. 

Max shrugged. "Steve drove us over, now we're going to watch a movie. That is, if Lucas and Dustin ever agree on one..."

He thought the fact that _Steve_ drove them over warranted a little more explanation, but Max's comment started a whole new bout of arguing, and the kids quickly lost interest in Jonathan. 

He glanced over at Steve again, who was resolutely pretending Jonathan wasn't there. He figured it made sense Steve had helped the kids when it was a life or death situation, but he hadn't expected it to last after the Gate closed. 

Then he took in Steve's face. The swelling had gone down some, but the angry red bruising had blossomed into a mosaic of sickly greens and yellows, and his nose was awash with deep blue. He remembered the night the Gate had been closed, when all was said and done and everyone was reconvened back at the house. Steve had all but collapsed on the couch and Hopper had shined a flashlight in his eyes and checked out the bruising sprawled down his rib cage, admonishing him for going monster hunting with a bad concussion and a broken rib or two. Dustin had stood by guiltily. 

And then it made sense. Someone doesn't do all of that out of a passing obligation. He should've figured it out sooner. 

* * *

After that, Steve became almost a regular fixture in their house, and it probably should've been harder to get used to than it was. Mostly, Jonathan was thankful. He was spending more and more time with Nancy, and it was a weight off his mind to know the kids were being looked out for. 

He was regaled with stories of Steve at dinner by Will, and Jonathan was vaguely surprised at how much the kid looked up to him. 

He talked about how Steve had stepped between Lucas and Billy one day in the parking lot, without hesitation, even though he had gotten his ass handed to him a few weeks earlier. He talked about how they barely rode their bikes places anymore, because Steve "didn't want you dipshits to get taken by something, because saving you would totally ruin my plans for the week." The one that surprised Jonathan the most was one night when him and Will were up late talking, and Will said in a rush how much he appreciated that Steve never treated him differently from the other kids because of what he went through. 

Jonathan decided that enough was enough. 

Though Steve had been around his house often, Jonathan had mostly avoided him. Not on  _purpose_... but maybe a little on purpose. Although Nancy told him how well Steve had taken their new relationship, he still felt awkward and didn't know what to say. Now, though, it was time to step up. 

The next time Steve was alone in the kitchen and the kids were in the living room, Jonathan took a deep breath and entered before he lost his nerve. Steve had been popping popcorn, and his eyes widened at Jonathan's sudden appearance. 

"Can we, uh, talk?"

Steve nodded slowly. "Sure... I already told Nancy, but I guess I haven't really talked to you about it. It's fine, your relationship. I'm glad you're both happy- I'm not going to be, like, a dick about it."

Jonathan blinked. "Uh-"

"I know I don't really have a good track record with this, based on last year, which I'm still sorry about, by the way. But I'm really not that big of an asshole anymore... at least, I hope I'm not... I don't  _think_ I am..."

"Steve," Jonathan cut in. "Trust me, you're not that big of an asshole anymore."

Steve snorted. "But I'm kind of an asshole?"

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. "...well, you did poison my brother's music taste."

That startled a laugh out of Steve. "Oh, c'mon, Byers, you can't be that much of a music snob. I'm just broadening his horizons."

Jonathan rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Whatever you say. But, that's not actually what I wanted to talk about." He felt a little less anxious, gaining the confidence to actually look Steve in the face for the first time in a few weeks, and he was taken aback. Steve's face had healed, but there were deep bags under his eyes, making him look like he hadn't slept in days. "Are you okay?" he blurted automatically.

Steve's eyes widened, he stood up straight rather than leaning back against the counter as he had been before. "...what? Uh, yeah? That's all you wanted to talk about?"

Jonathan felt the easy atmosphere leave the room. "No, uh- sorry, I didn't mean to- it's just, uh-" he stopped himself and took a deep breath. "I actually wanted to thank you for looking out for the kids. Will really likes you, and I appreciate you making him feel more, um... comfortable."

Jonathan looked away for a moment, worried how Steve would take his comment. When he glanced back, Steve was looking towards the living room with a fond smile on his face. "Someone's got to make sure those dipshits don't get themselves killed. It's kind of nice to pretend I have siblings." His eyes widened as soon as he said this, as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud. "I mean, uh-"

Jonathan smiled at him slightly. "It's nice, right? Having siblings?"

Steve looked surprised at Jonathon's reaction, letting out a huge sigh before smiling slightly back. "Uh, yeah, it is."

"Steve, popcorn!" Dustin yelled from the living room.

"Shut it, twerp!" Steve yelled back, and Jonathan laughed lightly at the interaction. 

Steve turned back to the microwave and grabbed the bag, opening it and pouring the popcorn in a large bowl. He turned back to Jonathan. "Want to join? Honestly, the company of someone over the age of fifteen would be nice. The munchkins always gang up on me."

Jonathan was surprised, but found himself nodding. "Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! This chapter is short because I've never written for Stranger Things before and I wanted to make sure I was getting their characterization right before I went farther. Any feedback is appreciated(:


	2. Chapter 2

Max ran out of her house quickly. It was early, so Billy was still sleeping, but she still didn't want to risk him seeing Steve Harrington's car outside of their house. _T_ _hat_ was a shitstorm she'd like to avoid. She jogged up to the car pulled open the passenger door.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Steve scoffed, giving her an incredulous look. 

Max huffed. "C'mon! Hasn't it been long enough? You said for a few weeks!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You stole your brother's car and almost killed us driving seventy miles per hour. I think the backseat is a pretty fair punishment. I still don't know how we didn't slam into a tree." 

Max threw her arms up in exasperation. "We didn't crash into a tree because I'm a  _good_ driver. I was doing fine until you woke up and distracted me!"

"Hey, who's the adult here?"

"Steve, you're  _eighteen_."

"Exactly, I'm the adult, so I'm right and you're wrong. Now get in the backseat."

Max huffed, deciding to change tactics. "Please? It's been, like, a month," she asked, giving her best puppy dog eyes. 

Steve glared at her with narrowed eyes for a few moments before sighing, rubbing his forehead. "No more driving until you're sixteen. Got it?" 

Max beamed. Checkmate. "Got it," she said, hopping into the front seat and pulling the door shut. She glanced over at Steve, who was looking at her with a furrowed brow, as if he knew what she'd done but didn't know how to counter the power of puppy dog eyes. She quickly did a double take. Something was off with Steve's face, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what.

"What's that weird look for?" he asked. She didn't answer for a few moments, and he froze, eyes narrowed in fury. "Is it Billy? Is he being a dick again?" He unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching for his door handle. "I swear to God, I'll kick that bastard's ass for you-"

Max shook her head. "No, no, that's not it, it's fine." Suddenly, she giggled. "You'll kick his ass? Do you not remember last time?" Max teased, grinning widely when she took in the protective look in his eyes. Having someone actually willing to stand up for you... it was  _nice_. 

Steve snorted, putting his seatbelt back on. "Excuse me, a little faith would be nice."

Max smiled, then realized what was off with Steve's face. "Steve, why are your lips blue?"

Steve looked taken aback. He glanced up at his reflection in the rearview mirror and frowned. "... it's almost December. It's like, zero degrees outside."

Max rolled her eyes. "I know that, but that wouldn't make your lips blue so fast. Unless you just stood outside for two hours straight for no reason."

Steve put the car in drive, pulling away from her house and effectively avoiding her imploring gaze. "Aren't you the detective? I bet if you actually put that brain of yours to good use, you could give Chief Hopper a run for his money."

Max punched him in the arm, and Steve reached over and messed up her hair in retaliation. Max huffed, knowing he had dodged the question, but not knowing how to keep asking without pissing him off. The kids knew when to stop at this point; they had certainly pushed Steve to his limits often enough to know when he'd genuinely get annoyed.

She noticed that the hand Steve ran through his hair was shaking slightly. With that, Max reached over and turned up the car's heat.

"What's that for?" Steve asked, reaching over to turn it back down.

Max shrugged. "I'm cold. It's almost December, you know."

Steve dropped his hand and rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe you wouldn't be cold if you wore a _real_ jacket. This isn't California anymore, dipshit, you can't just wear a sweatshirt."

"Okay, _mom_ ," Max groaned, turning her head toward the window so he wouldn't see the small smile tugging on her lips.  

* * *

"So, who did you get?"

Max's head whipped toward him, an incredulous look on her face. "Why would I tell you? That ruins it!"

Steve shrugged. "I'll tell you who I got."

Max punched him in the arm. "No! That ruins it too!"

Steve shook his head, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. "Geez, alright, relax. You munchkins sure are serious about Secret Santa."

"If you ruin Secret Santa, I'll tell everyone your hair routine," Max said with a devious smile. 

Steve stopped in his tracks. "I knew I shouldn't have told Dustin. You little gremlins have no loyalty." He continued walking, flicking Max lightly on the head. "I waste my gas money on you guys and this is the thanks I get?" he groused. 

Max laughed lightly. The pair was walking through Hawkins' only mall. It was small and dingy compared to the stores in California, but it was the best the town had to offer. Despite the few options, Max had managed to find some decent gifts, which were now in the shopping bag dangling from her hand. She kept her purchases a secret, much to Steve's exasperation.

The complex of stores had a few Christmas decorations hanging haphazardly, and when they walked back outside, there was a station selling Christmas trees in the parking lot. When she saw a happy family tying a tree to the top of their car, her face dropped, and she looked away quickly. 

Steve noticed, glancing at where she had been looking. "Hey, what's up?"

Max shook her head. "It's stupid. Just- my stepdad's not really the Christmas type. It's not a big deal, I'm over it."

"That's not stupid. I always wished we had a tree when I was growing up, too."

She glanced at him sharply. "Your family doesn't celebrate either?"

"Nope," Steve said. "They never had the time to decorate when I was little, and they started going on business trips once I was old enough to be left alone." He met her gaze. "Family sucks, huh?"

She nodded, eyes wide.

"But," Steve continued. "Just because your family's shitty doesn't mean everyone's shitty, y'know? You just have to find some people who are less shitty."

Max stared at him, and suddenly she felt lighter. Someone, someone like  _Steve_ , understood. He knew what it was like, and he said it was going to be okay. No matter how much they teased Steve, he had never actually led them astray. He escaped an army of demodogs, took on Billy without hesitation, and saved Mike when they were in the tunnels. She trusted him then, and she couldn't help but trust him now. It was going to be  _okay_. 

Steve looked over and balked at the awestruck look on her face. "H-hey, don't look at me like that."

"Every once in a while you say some smart stuff, Steve," she said with a grin, climbing into the passenger seat when they reached his car.

Steve climbed in a moment later, running a hand through his hair. He gave her an expectant look until she rolled her eyes and put her seatbelt on. Only then did he put the car in drive, putting the radio on in the background. 

As they drove, she glanced over to Steve, who was bobbing his head to the song's lyrics and tapping the drumbeat on the steering wheel. She realized she had never really thanked him; for protecting them from Billy, for helping them, for sticking around even after there were no monsters to be fought. She furrowed her brow. She wasn't really that type of person, but she felt like she needed to say  _something_.

"I've met a lot of less shitty people since I've moved here," she said vaguely, hoping he'd get what she was trying to say.

Evidently, he did, because he abruptly froze, no longer tapping along to the song. "You going soft on me, Max?" he asked teased gently, a small smile on his face.

Max crossed her arms. "I didn't say who the people  _were_ ," she huffed defiantly. 

Steve laughed. "Whatever you say." 

They drove in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the lull of the engine and the song playing softly in the background. Suddenly, Steve spoke. "I've met a lot of less shitty people, too."

She smiled slightly. 

Suddenly, her favorite song began playing on the radio, and she immediately perked up, tapping the drumbeat on her thigh. Steve noticed her sudden interest in the song and rolled his eyes. " _Madonna_ , really?" he scoffed. Regardless, he reached over and turned up the volume, loud enough that their terrible singing couldn't be heard over the sound pouring out of the speakers.

As they drove through Hawkins, singing along with mostly wrong lyrics to the song blaring from the speakers, Max realized that this was what it was like to have a brother. She figured it was pretty great. 

* * *

When Steve had asked for a key to the gym so he could get some extra practice time before school, his coach had agreed almost instantly. The man started rattling off new strategies for the season and admonishing him for his recent lackluster performances, and Steve had kept a smile plastered on his face until the key was in his hand. 

His coach would have been extremely disappointed.

When Steve entered the gym a few hours before school began each day, the basketballs always remained untouched. He would either lounge around and try to stop his racing thoughts or attempt to get some schoolwork done before class. Then, he would take a shower in the locker room and spend half an hour styling his hair to perfection, so no one would look too closely and notice the bags that sat under his eyes like bruises.

He sighed that day when he got another failing grade, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He never really cared about failing when he wasn't trying, but it was frustrating when he actually put in all the work he could and it still didn't change anything.

Honestly, screw trigonometry. He fought off actual monsters with nothing but a baseball bat;  _twice._ Trigonometry could kiss his ass.

Too bad he needed the class to graduate. 

He sat back up, opening his eyes and deciding to focus on the new lesson. He could see Jonathan looking at him from the corner of his eye, and he turned to meet his gaze. A few months ago, Jonathan would have quickly looked away in embarrassment. Now, though, all he did was raise his eyebrows and mouth, "You good?"

Steve made a dismissive hand gesture and looked back to the board, sighing tiredly when he saw the teacher already erasing a few important looking sets of numbers and example problems he hadn't written down yet. Oh well, maybe he'd just focus on tomorrow's lesson instead.

After an eternity of confusing numbers and equations, the class finally ended, and Jonathan made his way over to Steve's desk as he shoved his books into his bag.

"So, I take it the test didn't... go too well?" Jonathan asked.

Steve shrugged. "I think everyone failed that one." Jonathan's silence as they left the classroom was as good an answer as any. "Okay, maybe everyone didn't fail that one. Maybe just the idiots did."

"You're not an idiot," Jonathan was quick to reassure him. Steve gave him an incredulous look. "Hey, I'm serious. Maybe you're just not studying right."

Steve huffed out a laugh and ran a hand though his hair. "I'm really a lost cause if I can't even  _study_ right. Give me a sec, I'm just going to swing by the office and let them know I'm dropping out."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. If you want, I could, uh, help you study sometime."

Steve shook his head. "Don't waste your time, Byers."

Jonathan sighed. "Don't you want to go to college?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess so."

"So, I'll help you out. You're already over my house enough, anyway. Might as well," he pointed out, with only a hint of smugness in his voice. 

"...fine, you win," Steve said. "But don't say I didn't warn you." They reached the end of the hallway, where they usually parted ways. "You going to be at the munchkin's meeting later?" he asked.

"Will would probably kill me if I don't go. He said it was mandatory," Jonathan said with a fond smile. 

Steve laughed. "They don't mess around. See you later, then."

He turned the other way, and his smile immediately dropped. He knew it was only a matter of time before they realized he was more trouble than he was worth. His own father had figured it out- it shouldn't take too much longer for Jonathan and the kids to figure it out, too. 

He knew he should push them away before that happened, to save himself from the rejection, but he just couldn't do it. He had made plenty of stupid decisions before, what was one more?

 Might as well enjoy their company while he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!!!! I couldn't even believe it, the response to this story has been incredible. Reading all of your comments made my entire week!! I wanted this chapter to be longer than this, but I haven't had much time to write with school and everything. You guys are all so incredible though, so I figured I should post what I have so far instead of making you wait(:
> 
> I hope this chapter didn't disappoint!!


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan had always preferred observing people rather than joining in. Recently, he enjoyed watching Steve's interactions with Will and his friends. Their banter was usually funny, and it was still slightly bizarre to see Steve Harrington,  _King Steve_ , throw a sarcastic response to Dustin that would make Will laugh and cause Mike roll his eyes while hiding an amused smile, and-

"All of you, shut the hell up! This is important!" 

Jonathan was broken out of his musings by Dustin screaming over a room full of people. Lucas gave Dustin a dirty look, but he pointedly ignored him, trying to end the lingering conversation between Mike and Will. 

Jonathan looked over to Steve. "Do you know what this is about?" he whispered. 

Steve shrugged. "No idea." 

Once the din of the room died down, Dustin clapped his hands together, standing up in front of the couches where everyone was sprawled out. "Now that you've all finally stopped talking, I'll let Steve take the floor to pitch his idea."

Steve's eyes widened. "What the hell? I don't have an idea- you're the one who called this meeting, dipshit!"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "You did have an idea, you just didn't  _realize_ you had an idea."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you told me what that means, it would be very helpful."

Dustin sighed. "Okay, I'll walk you through it, if I must. You and Max were talking about how shitty Christmas is, right?"

Steve looked over to Max with a look of betrayal on his face. Max shrugged and glanced away. "It came up," she said simply. 

"No loyalty," Steve muttered under his breath, but the conversation went on as if he hadn't said anything. 

" _So,_ obviously, we should all have an awesome Christmas together instead of a shitty Christmas with our families," Dustin declared with certainty.

"I still don't think that counts as my idea, but whatever," Steve huffed, and Jonathan laughed as all of the kids ignored his grumblings again. 

The room broke out into excited chatter, as Dustin and Lucas argued about what they would have for dinner, and Mike asked how they could convince Hopper to let Eleven come. Will suggested they could bribe Hopper with their Christmas dinner,  _whatever_ it would end up being, and Jonathan smiled slightly at seeing his brother so at ease.

Lucas's raised voice cut through the room. "That sounds like it could be cool, but where would we have it?" he asked, sending the group into silence.

"What about your house, Steve?" Jonathan suggested, everybody turning towards them. "Aren't your parents usually on business or something?"

Dustin's face lit up. "Holy shit, that would be awesome! We could be as loud as we want and it wouldn't matter. We could decorate, too- get the whole Christmas experience."

"I have some Christmas decorations in my attic that we don't use," Max suggested.

"And if nobody's parents are there, Hopper wouldn't worry about people seeing Eleven or anything!" Mike exclaimed, sitting up excitedly. 

"Everyone would still need their parents' permission, though," Jonathan pointed out, trying to be the voice of reason. 

Dustin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure if we spent Christmas morning at home, they wouldn't mind us going to Steve's house after."

"Hey, hey, dickheads!" Steve spoke over their excited yammering. "Is anyone going to ask _me_ about this? Because the answer's no."

"No to what?" Dustin asked, confusion written clear on his face.

Steve crossed his arms. " _No_ to using my house. Sorry, twerps, you'll have to find somewhere else."

Mike glared. "Why not? Jonathan says your parents are never there, so what the hell's the problem? They wouldn't even have to know."

The room was blanketed in a tense silence, as everyone watched the standoff between Mike and Steve. A few moments went by before Steve ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and Jonathan thought it looked like he was warring with himself. 

When the silence became near suffocating, Steve finally broke it. "...fine." His answer was met by an excited cheer from the kids, and he held up a hand. "Relax, we don't even know if your parents will agree yet."

The kids ignored this, instead beginning to plan their holiday further, from what time they thought they would be able to escape their families to who would bring what. Jonathan smiled at their antics for a moment, but when he glanced at Steve, his smile dropped. 

Steve was smiling half-heartedly, but Jonathan could tell it didn't reach his eyes. A few weeks ago, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference, but now, he could see that Steve's actual smile was worlds away from this one. Steve's eyes were usually crinkled and bright when he would laugh at something Jonathan said or tease the kids to get a rise out of them. Now, his eyes just looked... dead. 

* * *

Steve dropped his head onto his textbook. "You don't understand. This is impossible." 

Jonathan sighed. "Don't look at the entire question at once. Break it into smaller steps, like I showed you." The music playing in the background stopped, and Jonathan reached over and flipped the record to the B-side. The pair was sitting on the floor in Jonathan's bedroom, notes and textbooks splayed around them while _The Clash_ poured out of the record player. 

"How much is this midterm even worth? Not much, right?"

"It's 30% of our grade."

Steve groaned. "This is so not worth it."

Jonathan shrugged. "Remember, though-"

"Yeah, I know, passing, graduating, college, blah, blah," Steve said exasperatedly. 

Jonathan laughed lightly, and the two sat in silence for a few minutes, with Jonathan studying and Steve's face still hidden in his textbook. Enough time had passed where Jonathan thought he might have even fallen asleep, but Steve suddenly spoke.

"You know, you could study with Nancy instead of me, I wouldn't mind," he said, voice muffled into his textbook.

Jonathan looked up in surprise. "What?"

Steve rolled so he was laying on his back instead his stomach, staring at the ceiling. "I mean, I don't want to make it weird between you two. If you ever want to study with her for tests instead, just tell me, y'know?"

Jonathan looked baffled. "It's fine, I can spare an hour or two. Plus, the three of us could always study together if you're that worried about it..."

Steve rolled back over and propped himself up on his elbows, giving Jonathan a disbelieving look. "I mean, I'm sure she could be more help to you than I am, since I don't know what I'm doing sometimes either, and it could be nice," he rambled under Steve scrutinizing stare.

"...man, don't you realize how weird that would be?" Steve asked incredulously. 

Jonathan bristled. "It doesn't have to be weird if you don't make it weird. She still wants to be your friend, I mean, she didn't..." he trailed off, realizing what an awkward turn the conversation had taken. He didn't know how to break the silence that followed, but thankfully, Steve never liked to leave a lull in conversation.

"Alright," Steve said. "Let's talk about something that's not Nancy or trigonometry. My brain needs a break from thinking. You pick the topic."

Jonathan paused, not prepared for the abrupt change. "...okay, uh- what about the kids' Christmas idea?"

Steve snorted. "Those munchkins sure are determined. The second I say Christmas, Dustin locked onto the idea. Geez, I have to watch what I say around them."

Jonathan smiled. "I think determined is an understatement. I thought Mike was going to fight you. Why didn't you want them to have it at your house, anyway?"

The easy atmosphere they had disappeared suddenly, and Steve rubbed the back of his neck. When Jonathan saw the apprehensive look on his face, his stomach dropped instantly. His head ran through the worst case scenarios, most of them involving the supernatural. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help it. As soon as something seemed amiss, his mind went straight to the Demagorgen coming back, the Gate opening again, the Mindflayer still lurking in their world, still lurking in _Will,_ Will being taken to the Upsidedown again, stuck, alone, hurt-

"My dad can be an asshole."

At that, Jonathan let out a startled laugh, brought out of his mental spiral. He couldn't help it, he was just so... _relieved_. He had half expected Steve to say that he thought the Gate hadn't closed, that the Mindflayer may still be able to reach his little brother. When he said something so  _normal_ , so  _average_ , he remembered that they could still have normal teenage problems that didn't include monsters running rampant. He felt the last vestiges of panic drain out of him and started to feel embarrassed for freaking out over nothing. He looked down at his hands. "Well, with all we've been through the past two years, your dad should be the least of our worries," he said lightly. 

When he was met with silence instead of laughter, he looked up.

When he saw Steve's face drop then close off completely, he couldn't help but feel he had just made a huge mistake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for reading!! your kudos and comments are incredible, I cant even believe it(: I usually never update this fast, but you guys give me so much motivation!
> 
> let me know what you think, any feedback is appreciated!!


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan knew he didn't have the best social skills, but he was still surprised that he managed to ruin almost a month of friendship with one impulsive sentence.  

They were walking through the mall, the kids excitedly bouncing between stores, but Jonathan was hopelessly distracted. It was a few days after their last study session, and Steve had been distant. Jonathan knew he messed up; hell, he knew if someone had laughed when he tried to talk about _his_ dad, he would be pretty pissed too.

Unfortunately, due to the previously stated lack of social skills, he had no idea how to fix it.

They lagged slightly behind the kids, who raced into a store that had customized stockings on display in the window. He waited outside the store, leaning on the railing across from the entryway. Steve leaned on the railing next to him, which was a good sign, but they were still blanketed in silence.

Jonathan was used to Steve filling any pause in conversation, speaking about anything that came to his mind with added hand gestures to prove his point. Now, though, Steve was unnervingly silent and still beside him, and it was making Jonathan anxious. 

"Are you mad at me?" Jonathan blurted suddenly, with his usual lack of tact. 

Steve jumped, his head snapping up. He looked at Jonathan with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "What? Why the hell would I be mad at you?"

Jonathan shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "You've been quiet since the other day when we talked about your dad..."

Steve froze and dropped his gaze for a moment, hair flopping over to hide his expression. When he looked back at Jonathan, he was smiling, though to Jonathan, the smile seemed a little empty. "Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I'm mad at you, dipshit. I'm just tired. Y'know, studying for that goddamn trig midterm and everything."

Now that he mentioned it, Jonathan realized Steve really  _did_ look tired. Tired was probably an understatement. Seeing Steve everyday had caused him to overlook the heavy bags that were settled beneath his eyes, getting disturbingly used to seeing him look utterly exhausted. 

Before he could ponder this unsettling realization further, Steve continued talking. "I mean, you didn't even do anything wrong, anyway.  _Hell_ , you were right. We fought actual monsters, I should be able to handle my _dad_ without whining. I'd take him over a Demogorgon any day."

Jonathan laughed slightly. "Good point. I'm just relieved we can worry about our parents now, instead of the end of the world."

Steve let out a choked laugh that devolved into a cough. "Yeah, I'm relieved, too."

There was something off about his voice, but before Jonathan could question it, the kids came back out, nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Jonathan, look! We all got one!" Will exclaimed, pulling something out of his shopping bag to shove into Jonathan's face. 

Jonathan pulled it back a few inches so he could actually see the fuzzy object. It was a red stocking, with Jonathan's name written in delicate script across the white section on top. He smiled softly. "That's cool, Will. How much was it? I'll pay for yours, too." 

Will shook his head. "No, it's a Christmas present!"

Jonathan wanted to protest, but seeing the determined look on his brother's face, he decided against it. "Thanks, Will. It's great," he said instead, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulders. 

Dustin reached into his bag, holding out a similar stocking that had Steve's name sprawled across the top in ornate letters. Steve blinked at it for a few seconds, unmoving until Dustin practically shoved it into the teen's hand. 

"Dustin-" he started to protest.

"Nope," Dustin spoke over him. "I don't want to hear it. It's a Christmas present, so you don't get to pay for it or complain. Sorry, those are the rules."

Steve smiled warmly, eyes bright and lighting up his face. "Thanks, squirt," he said, reaching over and ruffling Dustin's hair.

"Uh, can we go?" Mike asked loudly, effectively ruining the moment.

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course, wouldn't want to keep you waiting. It's not like _you_ kept us all waiting for twenty minutes picking out an ornament for Eleven."

Mike flushed. "Hey! I want our first Christmas together to be perfect, is that a problem?"

Lucas laughed. "Dude, after all that you ended up buying the first you picked anyway."

Jonathan watched them bicker in amusement. Steve stood in the middle of the group, alternating between placating and antagonizing the kids to keep the perfect balance of chaos. Jonathan had no idea how he managed it; it must be a skill acquired with practice.

Once they were in the parking lot, Max broke their fighting by pointing to a bunch of Christmas trees being sold. "Steve, can we get a tree?"

"No w-" he started, but broke off into a coughing fit.

"We have to! Steve, if we can get a tree, keep coughing," Dustin said. When Steve's coughs didn't subside, Dustin cheered. "Hell yeah, that means we can get a tree!" He turned to head off towards the trees, but Steve grabbed his arm, finally getting his breath back.

"Uh, I don't think so. That was underhanded, Henderson. Anyway, my parents haven't even told me if they're going somewhere this year," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

All of the kids froze, eyes locked on him. "You said your parents have been going on business trips since you were a kid, though," Max accused.

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "... I did say that, didn't I," he muttered under his breath. "Well, I mean, they probably will, like they always do, but it's not official yet. We can't still can't get a tree either way."

"Why not?" Lucas questioned with a frown.

"...they don't leave until Christmas Eve, so we can't decorate until then. And I'm not going through the trouble of putting up a tree to have for one day."

The kids frowned, but Jonathan jumped to Steve's aid. "He's right, guys. Decorating a tree is a lot of work, it's not worth it." With a little subdued grumbling, the group gave up on the tree idea and instead began coordinating a time to meet on Christmas Eve. 

"You looked like you needed a hand," Jonathan joked, confident the kids were too distracted to listen in.

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm way too young to deal with this many bratty thirteen year olds."

The group reached Steve's car, and Mike reached for the trunk. Steve slammed his hand on the top, making Mike jump. "Trunk's broken, you'll have to hold your bags by your feet," he said sternly.

Mike's eyes immediately narrowed. "That's impossible, we have too many!"

Steve put a hand on his hip. "Is there ever going to be a day that you just listen to me without complaining? The trunk is  _broken_. Meaning it won't  _open._ So I don't know what you think complaining will do."

Mike huffed and climbed into the car. As they pulled away, Jonathan thought about what a weird group they made; two polar opposite teenagers and four fiery preteens. Regardless of the odd ragtag group, Jonathan knew their Christmas was going to be great.

* * *

Steve knew this Christmas was going to be shit. 

He raked his hands through his hair, dropping his head to rest against the steering wheel and wincing at the clammy feeling of his forehead. He was glad the only light came from the pale moon, because he didn't want to see the knotted mess he had made of his beautiful hair from running his hands through it for the past hour. 

He had bought himself some time by lying about when his parents were leaving, but that still didn't solve the issue that he had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn't back out now; all of the kids would be pissed at him, and considering that the munchkins and Jonathan were the only good things in his life, he was terrified of losing that. 

Steve knew that he would probably eventually lose them anyway because of who he was as a person- his dad saw it, even Nancy saw it. Still, he wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

That meant having Christmas at his house, however the hell he'd pull that off. 

He laughed softly, the hollow sound filling his car. King Steve, the great Steve Harrington, having a breakdown because of a Christmas party for a bunch of middle schoolers. Billy would probably laugh his ass off. 

"Get your shit together," he muttered to himself, scrubbing his hands over his face. He would figure something out; this was barely even a problem. He had to stop being so melodramatic. 

He let out a deep breath and sat up, trying to pull himself together. He opened the car door and stepped out, pulling his thin coat tightly around himself as the cold quickly seeped into his bones. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, thinking about what Jonathan had said. He should just be happy the Gate was closed and the Mindflayer was defeated. When he thought of it like that, he felt a little ridiculous that he'd almost told Jonathan. 

He walked to his trunk, opening it quickly. He pulled out a blanket from among his clothes and slammed the trunk shut, climbing back into the backseat in an attempt to escape the chill. There was almost no temperature difference between inside the car and outside the car, but he tried not to dwell on that and instead be grateful that the car protected him from the biting wind. 

Steve grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat and placed it down as a makeshift pillow. He curled up with the blanket, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the bitter chill that still encased his body.

What had Jonathan said before... relieved? He should be relieved that all he had to worry about was a little cold, instead of being torn apart by monsters. He had a car, he wasn't _actually_ on the streets, the world wasn't ending.

It was fine,  _he_ was fine, he needed to stop the self pity. 

Repeating that mantra, Steve fell into an uneasy sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'M SO SORRY THIS UPDATE TOOK SO LONG! I thought I'd be able to get out another chapter between Thanksgiving and finals, but finals took over my life way sooner than I thought they would. Thank you so much for your amazing feedback though!! Reading your comments really lifted my mood when I was writing papers(:
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter! I have break for a month now so updates should come faster again. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, I absolutely love reading your comments!!


	5. Chapter 5

Steve walked out of the supermarket, sighing in relief and letting the tension leave his shoulders. He knew that buying paperclips and bobby pins probably just made him seem like a student who wanted to try some new hairstyles, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the cashier knew about his more nefarious intentions.

He hoped his plan worked. It  _had_ to work. 

Steve rubbed his forehead, thinking back to the spy movie he had seen with Nancy about two months ago. He remembered a scene where the spy was captured, but he picked the lock with the help of a bobby pin and a paperclip. He had done it in about ten seconds, so Steve figured it couldn't be that hard. Hopefully. He could pick the lock on Christmas morning, the kids could have their party, and as long as Steve made sure to put everything back, his parents wouldn't even notice when they got back from whatever trip they were going on this year.

He hoped to God they were going on a trip this year. He couldn't handle another complication- he barely had it together as is.

Steve unlocked his car and scowled when his gaze inevitably fell on his useless house key dangling tauntingly on his keychain. He wasn't sure why he hadn't just vindictively chucked the key into the quarry yet; he had tried, but every time he was about to drop it, something irrationally sentimental reared its head, and he couldn't bring himself to follow through. The action held too much weight; his English teacher would probably prattle on about symbolism. 

He sat in his car, thoughts unwittingly turning to the day he had discovered how useless the key was. He had skipped school, a few days after the fight with his dad. He wanted to get his heavier winter coat so he wouldn't freeze as he waited for his dad's anger to blow over. He had been kicked out for days at a time before, for a bad grade or getting into trouble at school. This fight had been particularly brutal, though, so Steve expected to not be allowed back for at least a week or two. 

He didn't realize the severity of the situation until he tried to unlock the front door, and it just... didn't work. He kept trying for another five minutes, movements getting increasingly more frantic- he was  _positive_ he must be turning it wrong somehow and panicking over nothing, that he would laugh at himself later for getting worked up over nothing. 

Until it fully dawned on him that he wasn't getting worked up over nothing, his dad had actually changed the locks- this time it wasn't a punishment, this was  _permanent_.

He had leaned his head on the door and squeezed his eyes shut, blood roaring in his ears as the reality of the situation began to settle in. His hands had shook, so he brought them up and tangled them in his hair to anchor himself. The implications of the locks being changed shifted his mindset, and he considered all the problems he didn't have the answers to; how he would fix this, where he would get money, what he would do,  _he couldn't do this_ \- his heart beat frantically to match his spiraling thoughts.

A car honked nearby, and the sound brought him out of his memories. He opened his eyes, not remembering shutting them. His hands were wrapped in a white-knuckle grip around his steering wheel. His heart was pounding as hard as it had been that day on his doorstep. Steve laughed weakly at himself.

"Relax, it's not a problem," he whispered to himself, peeling his stiff hands off the steering wheel. 

He took a deep breath to steady himself- or, tried to. His breath hitched, and he was sent into a hacking coughing fit, leaving his chest aching and head spinning. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned, feeling the unnatural heat of his forehead. 

This problem was harder to deny, but he was still trying to employ his favorite strategy- ignore it until it goes away.

So far, it hadn't been working. But, he vaguely remembered his history teacher reading them some Winston Churchill quote about never giving up, and, well, that guy seemed to know what he was doing, right? He'd just keep up the denial until something happened. 

It's not like he had much of a choice, anyway. He couldn't waste his money on cough medicine; he only had fifty dollars left, and he was running out of superfluous possessions to pawn off in town. That money had to be spent on gas, and, more importantly, Dustin's Secret Santa present. 

* * *

 It was surprisingly easy for Jonathan to forget how odd his friendship with Steve was. Jonathan used to be intimidated by his cool guy exterior and reputation, but now that he looked past the surface, he realized Steve was actually a pretty friendly and easy-going person. It felt like they'd been friends for years rather than weeks. 

However, Jonathan was usually reminded that their friendship was new and probably infinitely baffling to their classmates whenever they hung out in public. As they walked past the food court, Jonathan felt the stares on his back, and when he glanced over, he saw a group of students from their grade quickly look away and start whispering.

He figured he couldn't blame them. Not only were they on opposite ends of the social spectrum, but news about their fist fight the year prior had spread across the school like wildfire when it happened. On top of that, Jonathan was currently dating Steve's ex-girlfriend. Yeah, it was okay for their classmates to be confused- Jonathan himself was confused about how their friendship worked. 

"So, what do you think?"

Jonathan jumped, realizing he had been zoning out. "Uh, sounds good."

Steve furrowed his brow. "You weren't listening."

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck. "Of course I was listening."

Steve gave him a scrutinizing look. "You're a really bad liar, Byers."

Jonathan glanced back over at their classmates, where they were still talking and casting them obvious looks. Steve followed his gaze and sighed when he saw their classmates, looking at them with clear confusion, some of their noses upturned in derision. 

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes, and Jonathan braced himself to be told to get over it. Instead, Steve reached out and gave Jonathan's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise. A moment later, Steve's hand was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Who cares about what those jackasses think? They wouldn't be able to do half the shit you've done, so they don't have the right to look down on anyone. And if they think they can, they're even bigger dumbasses than I thought," Steve declared with a laugh.

Jonathan let the words sink in and was too shocked by Steve's vague reassurance to answer. Steve looked over when the silence dragged on for a few moments, and Jonathan figured his astonishment must be showing on his face, because Steve quickly looked away and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Anyway, when you were _ignoring_ me, I was asking if any store in this mall sells stuff for that dragon game they're always talking about," Steve said quickly.

Jonathan smiled slightly. He knew Steve was trying to change the subject, but he decided to humor him rather than call him out on it. The guy had just complimented him in a roundabout way, after all. "I wasn't  _ignoring_ you. And it's called Dungeons and Dragons."

Steve waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, that. Do they sell that stuff here? Dustin would probably like something like that, right?"

"There's a store on the second floor that has some things for the game. And of course Dustin would like it, you need to stop overthinking it," Jonathan replied.

Steve snorted. "I'm not overthinking it, I just don't have as much experience buying gifts for twelve year olds as you do. I don't want to deal with a pissed off Dustin on Christmas if I get him the wrong present or something."

Jonathan laughed, and Steve sent him a sour look. "I'm sorry, just- I'm pretty sure Dustin would love almost anything you get him just because it was  _you_ that got it. He looks up to you."

Steve laughed incredulously. "No, Will looks up to you. Dustin just fights me constantly and finds new ways to drive me crazy."

Jonathan shook his head. "Because that's just- that's what little brothers  _do_." 

Steve rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Byers. You might know a lot about trig, but I think you're dead wrong about this."

Jonathan shrugged. They walked in silence for a few moments before Jonathan worked up the courage to ask his next question. "So, uh- speaking of trigonometry. How did you... what did you think of the last, um, test?"

Steve sighed, breath hitching at the end and throwing him into a coughing fit. Jonathan's brow furrowed and he reached out, not even sure what he was planning to do, but Steve waved him off, turning away to hack into the crook of his elbow. After another minute or so, Steve caught his breath, absently rubbing his chest with a wince. "Sorry, I think I'm allergic to math. About the test- I failed. Again."

Jonathan's lingering concern was washed away with guilt. "Oh- I'm sorry. You can try to get another tutor- I'm clearly not the best, I'm not even helping at all-"

"Jonathan, relax," Steve cut him off. The pair arrived at the game store, and made their way to the back where the Dungeons and Dragons section was. Jonathan stayed silent, anxiously awaiting Steve's refusal to study with him anymore. 

After a few moments of browsing, Steve sighed. "Listen, it's not that you're a bad tutor, got it? I told you already that trying to help was useless. Me and math don't really mix- actually, me and  _school_ don't really mix."

Jonathan wrung his hands together. "..what did you, uh, want to study in college, then?"

Steve looked through the game boards, shrugging absently. "No clue. I suck the least at history, but history's boring as hell."

Jonathan cocked his head. "Then why do you want to go to college? I mean- if you don't like school or a specific subject or anything," Jonathan quickly explained, scared of sounding too judgmental. 

Steve just laughed and moved over to where the books were, glancing through a few with lore and strategies. "Good question. I don't even know. That's what you're supposed to do after high school, y'know?"

Jonathan furrowed his brow. "Not necessarily. Not if you don't want to."

"Well, I sure as hell don't know what else I'd do."

"...I guess. Doesn't your dad have a business? Would you work for him?"

Steve shook his head. "Not an option," he said, and Jonathan felt like he wouldn't get an explanation even if he asked. Instead, they browsed in silence for a few more minutes, until Steve pulled a book off the shelf. 

"Hey, I think this is the one Dustin was talking my ear off about a few weeks ago. That little munchkin better like it," he said without any real venom, walking over to the cashier to check out.

At the mention of Dustin, Jonathan's face lit up, an idea coming to him. He waited until Steve was done with the cashier and they were leaving the store to speak up. "What about a police officer?" he said. 

Steve's head whipped toward him. "What?"

Jonathan shrugged, embarrassment flooding his face. He looked away, unable to watch Steve's reaction to his idea. "I mean- I was thinking about that night, with Dustin and the kids. Just, you didn't hesitate to help them. And, uh, last year, too, with me and Nancy. You weren't involved, you could've just left, but you helped us anyway. So I figured- you're, y'know brave enough, and want to help people and everything, and Hopper would probably help you with it. Just- if you don't want to go to college- that could be... good."

Jonathan took a deep breath and looked back at Steve. Surprise was written across his face, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape. "Are you messing with me, Byers?"

Jonathan immediately shook his head. "Of course not. Like you said, I'm a bad liar, right?"

Steve scrutinized his face for another moment. He seemed to find what he was looking for, and his face split into a small grin which he immediately tried to hide by looking away. "You're such a sap."

That surprised a laugh out of Jonathan, relief and warmth flooding his chest. "Hey- you started it. What was it you said? Those kids have no right to look down on me?"

Steve shoved at Jonathan's shoulder, a full smile now adorning his face. "Shut it, punk. Now I know where Will gets his smart ass attitude from. I figured it was Mike, but it's you. Who would've guessed."

Jonathan laughed and shoved Steve back. 

Sometimes, Jonathan was confused about how their friendship worked- but at times like this, he didn't really care how it worked. He was just grateful it did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your kudos and comments!! your comments always make me die of happiness(: they also let me know that I'm still on the right track and they actually affect what I focus on in the story!!
> 
> I know that this has been a little angst heavy but don't worry, Steve will eventually get the love and appreciation he deserves!!  
> also next chapter is Christmas(:
> 
> Thank you so much for your amazing responses, I hope you enjoy this chapter! any feedback is greatly appreciated, I absolutely love reading it!!
> 
> also happy new year, I hope you all have an amazing 2018(:


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